


In Lonely Places

by garougaa



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, EXO - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Lemon, Multi, Scenario, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, chanyeol x reader, fucking mess of a piece tbh, imagine, kpop, xiumin x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garougaa/pseuds/garougaa
Summary: White walls. A window to your left. The light buzz of electricity and the odd undertone of death, despair, anxiety, carried with the heavy scent of Iodoform. There was a light chatter outside your room. A hospital. You couldn’t recall anything. Nothing but your name, your values, and a ghost.





	In Lonely Places

**Author's Note:**

> ok ngl i wrote this on a whim and now i actually really like it and want to continue but i feel bad if the structure is fucking garbage because i'm bad at planning things out before writing them down lmfaoooo, but i'm going to REALLY TRY MY BEST to make this a good series and to ACTUALLY KEEP IT GOING. anyway. some trigger warnings - theres an almost car accident sorta. there's also some ideological stuff going on, and it's likely going to be a recurring theme throughout this story so im sorry if u don't like it. Also lots of questions that might hurt your feelings or smth idk. I tried to not make the reader sound depressed but tbh if I had amnesia, these are the same questions I'd be asking too, so there u go.

 

 

 

 

> **wraith**
> 
> rāTH/
> 
> _noun_
> 
> a ghost or ghostlike image of someone, especially one seen shortly before or after their death.

 

White walls. A window to your left. The light buzz of electricity and the odd undertone of death, despair, anxiety, carried with the heavy scent of Iodoform. There was a light chatter outside your room. A hospital. You couldn’t recall anything. Nothing but your name, your values, and a ghost.

 

It was the ghost of the man whose face you couldn’t quite put a finger on. He was ethereal. Always there, yet completely out of reach. Who was he? You yearned to know.

 

“We couldn’t find any medical records. Actually – no records of her existence at all. Not even a birth certificate”

“No wallet? No ID?”

“Nothing. No emergency contact information, no notes – no one in the building knew who she was. We’re at a loss here.”

“Well, it’s a miracle she even survived – and in one piece at that.”

“What do you suppose we do about her? If she wakes up, that is.”

“Not sure, but we’ll come up with something when the time comes. For now, I have to run a few more tests – but the good news is that her heart rate is stable.”

 

You listened halfheartedly. Eyes closed and trying to imagine the face of that man. He was right there, fresh in your mind and yet his identity was a blur. How did you know him? Did he know you? You felt as though he could have been the love of your life. A parent, or a child. A worst enemy or possibly even the devil himself. Nevertheless, you wanted – needed, even, to know.

 

“You’re awake.” The words shook you from your thoughts as your eyes opened to the light of the room once again, this time bringing with it a short pang to your cerebrum. You flinched slightly.

“We weren’t expecting your recovery to happen so quickly. I’d like to run a few tests and ask you a few questions if that’s fine with you.” The doctor, a soft looking man. His voice gentle and soothing. You nearly forgot to respond, with a nod of approval. He smiled. He must have worked with children – his presence put you at ease.

“I’ll have to take your vitals first, but in the meantime, we can just talk.” He mentioned as he moved over to the corner of your suite to roll a chair and some machine next to your bed. His clipboard sat in the chair as he prepared the machine for use. You recognized the arm cuff used for taking blood pressure, and the pulse oximeter he would come to clip onto your finger, and the stethoscope dangling from his neck. The typical image of a doctor. Somehow it reminded you of an old, nostalgic cartoon that you couldn’t quite recall.

 

He did as doctors do – checked your vitals. Put the cold metal of the stethoscope on your upper chest, and back – listening to your heartbeat, or breathing. Whichever didn’t matter to you. Everything felt like a dream. As soon as he’d returned the object to hang around his neck, he cleared his throat and sat down in his chair, placing the clipboard in his lap. You stayed sitting up on the uncomfortable hospital bed, facing away from him.

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Fine.” You replied shortly, your voice felt rough and groggy as if it had recently been strained. You looked down at the small bandage wrapped around your wrist.

“What’s your name?”

“(y/n)”

“Do you have any family? Or anyone that you’d like to alert about your accident?”

You hesitated, still unable to recall anything. You shook your head.

“Is this by choice?”

You shook your head again.

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know.” There was a pang in your chest.

“Where do you live?”

“I don’t know.”

“What can you remember?”

“Nothing.” Each question hurt more than the last.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

 

 

Over the course of the next few days, you underwent many tests, and therapy – those concerning your physical wellbeing, to which Dr. Kim said the results were amazing, and those concerning your psyche. He spoke to you regularly, especially after escorting you to and from the different wards. Though you hadn’t seen him today, only nurses bringing your food and drink.

You found yourself staring out the window for most of the day – wondering what it could have been that you missed. How old _were_ you? How much of your life has been erased? Were you alive in the first place? It was an odd sensation being around people who knew exactly who they were and how their lives had gone, everything they’d done up to this point, but you were incapable of even fathoming it. This was all you knew. And every night, you’d seen that same man, draped in black as he turned to look at you but without a face. Every night, he was alone, and yet you were there – you could see him but he was just out of reach. And every night you tried to call to him and he wouldn’t respond. And you would wake up in the same hospital bed, in the same room with the same buzz of electricity hovering in the air, wondering what in the hell was going on.

 

“Ms. (y/n),” You turned your head to the familiar voice.

“Dr. Kim,”

“Please, call me Minseok. I have some news for you.” You nodded in response, moving to sit up in your bed. “Well, the hospital has deemed you healthy enough to be discharged, even though you’ve been diagnosed with Retrograde Amnesia. However, if you’ve ever read the tale of Roger Curry, you’d probably agree that damning you to wander the streets or live in a homeless shelter is a bad route to force someone onto.” He sighed, moving to close the door slightly and pull a chair up to your bed. As he sat down, he looked back up at you. You were unsure of what was to come next.

“This is going to sound insensitive of me, but are you positive there isn’t a person you can think of to call?” He asked hesitantly, and to both of your dismay, you hadn’t a reply. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed toward the ground for a few quiet moments. You wanted to know what he was thinking and at the same time, you wanted the stress of uncertainty to leave your mind.

He looked back up at you. You couldn’t read his expression.

 

“I have an extra room in my house.” He spoke finally, leaning back in his chair again and never breaking eye contact with you. “Of course, it’s up to you – I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to stay with me until we can get you on your feet, but my offer still stands.

You had nowhere else to go. A homeless shelter didn’t sound _too_ off-putting however, nothing was exactly as it seemed. But that didn’t exclude Minseok. It was entirely possible that he wasn’t who he seemed to be – however he was just so kind and welcoming. It was hard to believe that he could be anything but an angel.

You nodded in thought, weighing the different possibilities and trying to find a reason – any reason – that the homeless shelter would be a better choice, but there were just too many variables. There more people which meant there was a larger chance for things to go wrong. If it were just you and Minseok, even if he turned out to be some kind of psychopath, you’d stand a better chance and there was also more security in living in a home – consistent water, heating, cooling. You just didn’t want to be a burden on him.

As if he had read your mind, he spoke up again. “Don’t worry about repaying me, either. I don’t mind helping – and you wouldn’t be a burden.” He had surprised you. Minseok must have been perceptive as well. Had he any flaws?

 

Finally, you decided. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” You said. “Thank you for being so kind to me, Minseok.”

He smiled widely at you, eyes squinting slightly as his cheeks raised them. “Don’t mention it, I like helping others.” He was gorgeous.

 

You were discharged from the hospital that night, riding in the front seat of Minseok’s car and gazing lazily out the window. Time seemed to slow as the world faded away, and your thoughts guided you away from reality. Mainly anxious questions lingered, though vivid scenes of that man pestered you yet again. How could he be so elusive? You began to question whether he was even real. For being one of the only memories you clung to, it would be very disappointing to find out that he didn’t exist

 

“(y/n),” Minseok called out to you.

“Hm?” You responded, returning your gaze to the streets outdoors. Skyscrapers draped in a light fog surrounded you, as the rain drizzled and tapped the roof of Minseok’s car. You weren’t particularly interested in conversation at the moment, but he wanted to make something of a conversation.

“I hope you don’t mind if the room is a little bit messy. I have a lot of old stuff stashed away in there. If you’re uncomfortable with the mess, feel free to let me know – I’ll make sure to get it all out for you.“ Slowly the buildings grew more sparse as he continued to drive towards the country.

“Besides that, there’s food in the fridge, and in the pantry – I also have some other stuff in the extra fridge outside in the garage, but it’s mostly frozen meats and Capri Suns” He chuckled as he continued to drive and made one-sided conversation. “Feel free to cook if you’re hungry. I’ll share my food with you too of course, if I make enough for two.” Time went by between you two, he had to have been going relatively fast but it was getting dark quickly. You two must have been outside of – or very close to – city limits, because there were virtually no buildings in sight, only trees.

“You live alone?” You asked, mildly surprised at the comment. You would have guessed that he had a wife, and possibly a child. A girlfriend at least. It was odd to you that he was alone – he seemed well put together.

“Not completely alone – I have my –“ It was then that you looked forward rather than continuing to stare out the side window. The low visibility made you blink your eyes, however, the scene played out in slow motion; Minseok, startled, veers sharply to the left into the opposite lane, and as you glance up, bracing the door and middle console tightly to keep yourself as balanced and upright as possible, there he is. That man. Performing the same movement he’d played over and over and over in your dreams. He made direct eye contact with you. It felt like minutes that the two of you stared at each other, him standing outside of the car with his back to you, looking over his shoulder, and you, clutching whatever you could with the seatbelt locked tightly around your body.

“Shit!” Minseok exclaimed, breaking harshly as his car went over the left lane and into the grass on the other side. Your bodies heaved forward as the car stopped abruptly, nearly crashing straight into the dense woods. What felt like hours of waiting and staring into the dark forest was really only a few minutes but Minseok was incredibly shaken by this. He rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment as he exhaled deeply, before raising his head once more and looking down at his trembling hands. He then glanced at you. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated – incredulous and shaken as well, but more at the fact that he’d almost hit this random man that you’d been seeing so vividly in your dreams every night since waking up. You almost wondered if this was even real. You glanced out of your window again at the road, ready to open your door as you scanned the area for any sight of him again but there was nothing. “I think so.” You managed to utter as you returned your gaze down to your hands, laying in your lap at this point.

“That deer… It came out of nowhere, huh.”

You glanced at him one more time, he had his eyes closed as he laid against the headrest. You felt unnerved by his statement, and it made you question again if you really had been dreaming or not. You counted your fingers – 10. 5 on each hand. You looked at the screen on his dashboard, checking the time and reading every possible thing on there – it was perfectly comprehensible. You pinched the top of your thigh until it felt like it would bleed. There was no way you could have been asleep.

“I’m so sorry about that.” He uttered. “There normally aren’t any deer out here – just raccoons or other small animals. Nothing like that. I’ve never seen a white deer before.”

You could only nod, equally bewildered.

 

The two of you made it to his home after about 15 more minutes – equating to a 45-minute drive from the hospital. He lived in a very rural area, much colder than the city with trees spreading for miles. He had a neighbor, though they were about a 1.5 miles away.

He showed you around the 2 room, 2.5 bath house. It was elegant yet humble, with subtle yet well-structured mixes of rustic and modern touches. It was a two story with both bedrooms and full bathrooms on the upper floor, while the living room, kitchen and half bath were all on the ground floor. Homey, but at the same time being in the middle of nowhere felt uneasy. Who knew what could go on in those dense woods.

He also introduced you to his cat Suri. A lilac point Himalayan. He was cute and friendly enough.

But you were restless that night. Any time you closed your eyes, the events of earlier that night would flash again through your head. That man, the “white deer”, the odd feeling of a lucid dream you couldn’t shake. Sometimes you would just run through the house tour again, as you laid in the bed – remembering Suri as he padded up to you, sniffed your hand when you crouched down to show it to him, and then rubbing his face against it as a welcome. Remembering the scratching post in the corner of the living room, which was the first room you’d see upon entering, with the kitchen right behind it and only separated by a bar. The staircase, immediately to the right of the front door, and the short hallway with a door on each side – one leading to the master bedroom and bathroom, and the other to the guest room. Then one at the end of the hall which was the guest bathroom.

 

But that couldn’t get him out of your mind. You struggled to remember if you’d seen a deer or not. Maybe you were too startled to see what was really there. You wondered briefly if this could have been some kind of sign. Or an omen. Though, you’d rather just continue to rationalize the event. No, never mind. You were done rationalizing anything. You didn’t want to think anymore.

 

But your mind and body refused to sleep. Maybe It was because of the strange new place. But everything was strange and new. And nothing ever felt right. You felt lost and wondered if you’d feel this way for the rest of your life. What a depressing thought. To never know or understand why and how you’re alive. You could only imagine this is what most people must feel like though. This was normal. Right?

 

Of course, not being able to remember anything about yourself, besides a few select things, wasn’t normal. But maybe you weren’t the only one feeling lost and alone. Maybe you shouldn’t have felt alone at all. Minseok wanted to help.

But if you were to mysteriously go missing how much would he actually care? Nobody else would even know you were gone.

 

Apparently, no one _did_ know you were gone. No one knew you existed at all – and yet Minseok was there. Waiting for you. Caring for you.

 

But it was just his job.

 

If it was just his job, why is he taking care of you still?

 

Guilt.

 

No. Compassion?

 

Ulterior motives.

 

Maybe he’s a real angel.

 

Do angels even exist?

 

Who is Minseok?

 

Who are you?

 

Why are you here? Why do you exist?

 

What was to come of your life? Why did you exist without an identity?

 

What was your purpose? Did you have a purpose?

Did anything even matter?

 

Who is he? Why are you haunted by this person? Was he a person? Maybe he was a demon. Or an angel. But those probably don’t exist. Maybe he was just the last thing you saw before… No. Did you even exist before now? Think of something within your grasp – something comprehensible. You had your name. You had ethics, morals. You had questions. You had a ghost. But why nothing else? What happened to you? Could Minseok answer these?

 

 

 

What the hell is going on?


End file.
